I don't want to be saved
by Yui Miyamoto
Summary: When Takaba refuses to acknowledge his presence in the crowd, Asami takes matters into his own hands…


**Fandom: Viewfinder**  
 **Title: I don't want to be saved.**  
 **Rating: pg-13**  
 **Pairing: Asami x Takaba**  
 **Description - When Takaba refuses to acknowledge his presence in the crowd, Asami takes matters into his own hands…**

 **Disclaimer - Viewfinder isn't mine. The poem and Keisuke are mine**

You rebel against me  
in an angel's body?  
Deceive me with your enigmatic, innocent face  
with the screaming of your wanton,  
writhing body under mine?

I know _exactly_ what I've done,  
You are the ultimate punishment  
for all the crimes I've ever committed,  
ready to cut off my head  
as easily as a sword over the stem of a tsubaki.

But it's too hard to suffer through withdrawal  
when my body craves yours  
every second of the slowly passing days.

The more I push through all your barriers,  
I want you to hate me for all I've done.  
Get away from me  
Because I can't turn you away.  
I can't get away from you.

I don't want to escape  
from your unrelenting gaze,  
your gasping lips,  
your ravishing tones of voice.

Leave me,  
since I can't even convince myself.

 **I don't want to be saved.**  
 **By miyamoto yui**

I blink my eyes in disbelief, I almost choke.

Keeping up (somewhat) my famous composure and clearing my throat with a fist over my mouth, I mumble to myself with no one around me, "I truly hate that horrid contraption."

When had I started to become a petty man who's jealous over a camera?

I push the absurdities out of my mind and instantly replace the smirk of my mouth into a straight line with eyes that pierce into yours, always entering without any authorization but my own. When our eyes meet, you stare back without reserve, but turn away.

I'm not supposed to blow your cover, but how can my most exquisite creation _not_ stand out in the large crowds of formally dressed guests in this ballroom? It is simple. It is because you are mine.

I made you this way.  
The charm you evoke was harnessed by none other than me.

So, Takaba, you are still so naïve to think that your simple investigation can go without fail in my own high-rise hotel? You dare to again challenge my dominance over all that is under my thumb?  
You're still so cocky to think that your freedom is still within the parameters of your jurisdiction?

Think again. I think this is cause for the reinvasion of your supposedly indomitable heart.

I stand here surveying the men and women of the 'charity' event that's been coordinated. I take out a cigarette and peer at everything as my phone vibrates and people pass me while whispering messages quickly into my ear.  
Everyone mingles and they will soon sit down.

The famous 'auction' here legitimizes indentured servitude. It is under the name of escorting and entertainment, but it is just like the old geisha's mizuage.

It is a virgin's body that is at stake.  
Only, this is going to spread from paper to paper because famous celebrities are supporting in between the cracks through connections they owe. They are ones to be bought or taken, but it isn't them who will be harmed.  
Some already know the deal. They'd been here once before.

They're perpetuating a system that we can't fix.

I too feel that way sometimes, but I will not dwell on how I came to where I am.

And as I see him wandering around with his camera with that long, straight, raven-haired wig with the elaborate, vibrant, dark violet kimono. It's barely holding onto his body with a golden obi, so I can't help but wonder if hating me for what I represent really overpowers the split-second expression which forgives me, even if for a fake moment?

But who am I to worry over the brat? He chose to be here. And if he wants to sell himself for the pictures he perceives as 'truth', then let him.

I know that about you, Takaba.  
You always look at me wanting the truth about everything and anything.

And I have fun not telling you because when I do…

…I wonder if you will come back.

No one likes playing such easy games. They get tired of them because there's no sense of accomplishment.

I lift up my chin in arrogance. My eyes glance at you.  
Somewhere deep inside of me wants to rip you to shreds and devour you.

"You're not allowed to be here," I silently say in a glare across the room.  
Your eyes take a glimpse at me and persist, "I'll always do what I want, bastard."

Yes…that provocative concept you carry about you…

Freedom.

Or, supposedly. Do you still possess such a thing when I've clearly arrested it from the first moment I glanced at you and touched your body with my fingertips?

"Hmph." I turn away as the auction is about to begin while pushing my cigarette into one of the ashtrays.

I'm deeply amused as he continuously and inconspicuously takes photo after photo. Just because someone sees something doesn't mean it's true, does it? Implication and suggestion are stronger manipulators of the mind than simple images.

But that is how you work.  
That's why I continue to leave you with my caresses on every part of your body…

When it is your turn, I'm nonchalantly leaning my body on one of the full-length glass mirrors overlooking the mini lake three stories below us. I cross my arms and watch you as you go up onto the stage with your fake name and age. You're hiding one of your precious cameras under your kimono and coquettishly nodding your head.

My anger stirs. Such a face wasn't meant for public consumption.

You do not look at me at all throughout the ordeal…

I'm waiting for you to succumb and tell me in a single, momentary look that you need help. I want you to realize you need me.  
When and how will you ever know your place, my secretly prized pet?

You raise your hand over your mouth as the numbers are rattled off faster than the gun shots I've had to witness in killing whole gangs in abandoned warehouses.

Your bright eyes refuse to acknowledge me in between them.

I admit that it is driving me crazy even though my expression denies itself of changing to show its utter dismay.

Why…  
Why the hell are you even here?

Because I can't lock you in any room. You'd always find a way out.  
Because you have to live your life as you want and I can't ever stop you, even with all my power.

Like fine sand, you are always slipping from my grasps.

You are never completely mine.

"75,000,000 yen," someone firmly states while standing up to confirm his humble bid.

He is also as young as Takaba. The owner of the quiet, yet refined voice is none other than the righteous and rare, clean-minded, upcoming politician Ikegami Keisuke.

That's right, Takaba. You would be well-suited to be matched with such a man, wouldn't you?

But you aren't allowed to make a decision like that.

You have to play by my rules. Therefore, you have to hear my story…

…even if it's with my closed mouth and through the hot contact of my body thrusting into yours.

Without looking at anyone else, I fixate my eyes coldly onto yours. Though I do not show it, I am relieved, angry at myself, and living in disbelief. Closer and closer I come onto the stage.

I once again give in to you.

"One point five billion yen."

Holding my breath, I take you into my arms and forget the dumbfounded crowd staring at us in awe and bewilderment. I push your face away from the cameras as I carry you quietly out of the cascade of human and electronic eyes.

You are mad at me. Your unforgiving eyes glimpse at mine as I force you to rest your head on my shoulder.

Why…  
…am I doing such a stupid thing to save you?

What have you done to me, you stupid boy?

I tear my eyes away from yours and look forward.

Tugging deeply into my heart, your fingers hold onto my black suit like a spoiled child.  
So, even you get scared, don't you?

When the secret elevator swallows our bodies, I kiss your forehead.

At that, you suddenly protest, "Let go of me."

I do as he requests, but as I press his body against the elevator's velvet-carpeted wall, he's drowning in heated gasps under my hands reaching in between his legs.

"You're always so ungrateful. I save you and you act all high and mighty," I scold as I bite his ear and hold onto him.  
"Ah…" His head turns to one side as the kimono falls onto his elbows.

Save…condemn…  
Who is doing what for whom?

I can't tell the difference anymore.

I've lived the part that's been labeled evil.  
You're supposedly in the position of justice because you're uncovering 'the truth'.

But what would you say if I said this isn't the life I wanted to lead? That my one foolish dream flees whenever I take you as you scream your protests, too proud to call my name?

In this enclosed space within our tightly encompassed bodies holding onto one another, this is my freedom.  
Within your eyes and whatever pictures you take in between the viewfinder, can't you understand that this is the only place I have to breathe above all the blood, obligations, and self-expectations?

That's why I envy you.

But you were never given a more desirous place in the whole world, even if it is hell to you.

You bite your lip as hard as you can. It bleeds as I suck on the blood.

Then, you call out, "A-Asami!"

I close my eyes for a split-second and push my head onto your shoulder while plastering your body onto the wall. I don't want you to see my face.

I don't want you to feel how touched I am every time I hear you say my name.

This…  
This is why I enjoy your pain and your sweet flesh even if you hate me more and more…

"Say my name again," I whisper as you close your eyes and shake your head.

I enter and thrust over and over while you hold onto my clothing and lean your head forward in pain.

"No…I won't…give in…"

"Yes. You'll have to someday, Takaba."

What we both say and what we both do are two totally different things…

I don't call anyone else so intimately. Let alone their own name.  
Everyone should remain nameless when you want to kill them. Everything is just a game and people are nothing more than things so it won't hurt as much…

"Ah…!" Your eyes and hands clench at my body's confusion and passion.

I kiss your neck. "Say my name…"

Until you're beaten from the inside out, you don't give in. I hate you for it…

…but it also makes me admire you more and more.

When you collapse, I carry you lovingly in my arms. With my shirt open and the messy elevator showing our recklessness, I slip to the ground.

The elevator doors open and remain open to one of the many suites I own all over the world.

I hold onto you desperately even though I never want to admit it. You're already dreaming in between your exhausted state.

"Why…" you mumble in your sleep. "…why do you always come after me?"

The elevator door is still open, but the windows outside reflect nothing but the darkness of the city and places I'm forced to live in.

I don't want to ever admit why I always come after you even though I know exactly why.  
I don't have a reason to come, but you are always there with that look that encourages me out of my perversity for challenges.

Otomaeshi.  
"Payback," as it is called in yakuza terms.

Somehow, I want to get revenge for what you ransacked and burned deep inside of me, leaving no room for me to salvage anything of what I once was before you came.

Tenderly, you whisper into my ear while still dreaming,

"Asami."

I hold you tighter.

You are the only one who doesn't comply to everything I say because it is said so due to your rank. You are the only one who smiles at me without reservations when you're blushing because you're embarrassed. You are the only one who listens to the words I can't ever shout to the world and its injustices, which I inflict into our caresses.

But nothing is better than when you call my name.

Your lips acknowledge my existence in the world…  
…that more than my chains connected in being the top of the underworld…

…I can be human.

Later…  
In a while, I'll leave you alone and let you go all over again. I'll pretend nothing happened, that it didn't affect me in any way.

So now, let me savor the moment of feeling alive on this borrowed time…

…with the restrained 'freedom' you give me.

I close my eyes to record this instant like you do when you take pictures.  
"Akihito…"

Again, you shout at me as you grumpily walk away with your camera protected under your loving hands. Your eyes leave no room for redemption at all the things I've done wrong to you once more.  
But when I watch you through the tinted window of my black car, you have this soft look which is just as tempting as the red one you have when I make love to you.

I turn my eyes away.

Whenever you leave, I'm a living corpse all over again until the next time you resurrect me,  
my rebel angel.

But don't misunderstand me.

If it means you'll keep on visiting me in our own dimension of condemnation,  
or our twisted form of heaven,

I don't want to be saved.

 **Owari.**  
 **-**  
 **Author's note:** I didn't know if this would work. To tell you the truth, I'm always afraid to start fic, as prolific as people has dubbed me to be. I always thought I'd stay as one of those no-name fanfic authors that people passed but wouldn't remember. In other words, I expected to be overlooked and forgotten.

Especially with shounen ai/yaoi. I thought Gravitation would take a long time for me to get into. And now, I'm beginning down that road again with Viewfinder. I didn't expect readers would enjoy the fic so much. I had a fun time and am so happy, humbled, and honored to receive your support.

As expected, I knew Asami would be a bastard to write. T_T XD I LOVE CHALLENGES! (Yui is a masochist.) But I hope I did him correctly. * cries *

Therefore, I've humbly presented you a fic once again. Please enjoy it.

Love,  
yui


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